Harry in the Hood
by Briana Woodriff
Summary: This story runs parallel to SS, but is set in an alternate universe: the hood. High rating mostly for language and constant innuendo. The first couple chapters are PG-13 at the highest, though.
1. Chapter One: The Pimp Who Lived

  


Harry in the Hood with Potter Porn

  
Characters, places, names, events, and basically every aspect of this story are the property of J.K. Rowling and others. We just--twisted them...a little. 

This story has a long history behind it, one which is hard to understand, so we won't try to explain. To clear things up, there are actually three authors, and we take turns writing the story. So, since I am posting by the chapter and not by the update, it could be quite a while before the next chapter is finished (although I believe we are currently on Chapter Seven or so).   
Don't take this story too seriously, and please review once you've read it. Feel free to flame it, we do. Actually, we could care less if you review, because it's written purely for our own entertainment, and is only being posted here because we feel that it might have _some_ entertainment value. 

Oh yeah, and although it doesn't start out that way, it does get rather perverted later on. A product of too much free time in class... 

  
Chapter 1: The Pimp Who Lived

Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of Apartment 4 of the Privet Drive Projects, were proud to say that they were straight from the hood, thank you very much. One day Mr. Dursley was on his way to work on the corner to sell drugs, when he saw a bunch of people dressed in lingerie and thongs. 

"Crazy teenagers," he scowled. "Don't even know how to work corners the right way." 

Mr. Dursley had a normal day, because he didn't see the unusually large swarms of pigeons and seagulls. He was inside the broken-down warehouse at the corner, doing his thing. He called some buyers on his cell phone, shot a few people, and then called some more buyers. But then, when he decided to go across the street for some Church's Chicken, he noticed a group of thong and nipple-tassle wearing folk talking excitedly. 

"The Potters…yes, their son Harry…" 

Mr. Dursley remembered that his wife's sister had married a man named "Potter". But could it be? He thought nothing of it until a man ran up to him, shook his hand, and said, "Even a Muggle like yourself should celebrate, too! The evil Booty Raper has been defeated! This is a horny, wait, I mean HAPPY day!" 

Not knowing what to say, Dursley went back to the warehouse and had a great day (the cops didn't show up). 

Later, at home with his wife, he saw all kinds of crazy things on the local news. Swarms of pigeons, carfires, and multiple arsons could only mean one thing-something to do with their crowd. It was no good, he'd have to ask Petunia about it. 

"Hunny," Petunia "Lil Mama" Dursley said, "I made five hundred dollars in tips today, and I won the Best Stripper of the Month award." 

Knowing that Lil Mama was in a good mood, Vernon "Big Daddy" Dursley decided to ask her about her sister. 

"Hey, Lil Mama, what was the name of those Potters' son? Hamlet?" asked Big Daddy. 

"No! It was Harry; a nasty, pornographic name if you ask me." 

Mr. Dursley's face went white. "Right then. I agree. He'll turn out just like his mother, dirty and scandalous." 

"Exactly," she replied, and the subject was dropped. 

But little did they know that at that moment they were being watched. What had appeared to be a mangy alley cat was really a member of an elite top-secret government anti-gang squad. 

The cat sat perfectly still on the top of the Dumpster in front of the Projects of Privet Drive. Suddenly, a man appeared on the corner, and the cat still didn't move. The man was Professor Dumbledore, and the cat magically transformed into Professor McGonagall. 

"Is it true, the Potters are dead?" asked McGonagall. 

"Yeah, it is. Pity, really. They were they best ones on the block," replied Dumbledore. 

Then a bright light shone down on them, and a massive Pimpmobile was flying down from the sky. 

"Hagrid!" cried McGonagall with incredulity. "You really think it wise to trust that pimp with something as important as this?" 

"I would trust Hagrid with my life," replied Dumbledore, then added as an afterthought, "Well, except when he's high." 

The Pimpmobile came to a stop in front of the two, and the hydraulics brought the car to the ground so it's passenger could get out. It was a man; his hair was 'froed and he wore a fur coat. He carried a gold chain, had the most believable pimp limp, and his hands were the size of trash can lids (and you know what they say about a guy with big hands). 

"I have the bebbe for ya," said Hagrid while handing over the small containing a one-year-old future pimp. 

"Thank you, Hagrid. And where did you get that there Pimpmobile?" 

"From Sirius Black. He wuz ova at da houz, and he lent it ta me." 

At that moment Dumbledore placed young Harry Potter at the steps of Building A, Privet Drive Projects. Next to him lay the letter explaining in Ebonics to Big Daddy how he was really a wizard-pimp. 

"He'll have that scar for life. I have one just above my left knee that's a perfect map of the London Underground, for my late night cravings," said Dumbledore. "I wouldn't remove it even if I could. Such things come in useful. Want a sherbert lemon?" 

"No thanks," McGonagall replied, then continued, "Let's get this show on the road. Come on, just dump the kid!" 

Since Dumbledore had already carefully placed little Harry on the remains of the doorstep, they all jumped back into the Pimpmobile and took off. 

A breeze (predicting acid rain) ruffled the weeds in the dirty lot. Little Harry Potter slept on, not knowing that he was special, not knowing that in the morning he would be wakened by a near-fatal shooting next door, and that he would spend the next few weeks being malnourished and neglected…he couldn't know that all over, people were raising their shot glasses and saying in slurred voices, "To Harry Potter, the pimp who lived." 


	2. Chapter Two: The Vanishing Ass

Okay, here's the second chapter. The first few are quite short, but as the pervertedness increases, so does the chapter length. But in the beginning we were going more for humor than the shock-factor. 

Yes, it's OOC. It's supposed to be. One of our authors gets a little *coughs* carried away...especially when it comes to Oliver Wood. That's not until later, though. 

  
  
Chapter 2: The Vanishing Ass

Harry awoke to Lil Mama banging on the door to his broom closet. He had just had a great dream about a flying pimpmobile with great hydraulics. 

When he walked into the kitchen/dining room, he saw the green birthday cake and he remembered that it was his cousin Dudley's birthday. 

"This time, you little twerp, don't burn the chitlins! I want Lil Daddy's birthday to be perfect!" shouted Aunt Petunia. 

"Yes ma'am…" answered Harry. 

"HOW MANY PRESENTS DO I GOT?" shouted Dudley. 

"Thirty-six, I counted them myself," replied Uncle Vernon. 

"THIRTY-SIX! LAST YEAR I GOT THIRTY-SEVEN!" hollered Dudley. 

"Of course, and that's one more than last year, isn't it?" exclaimed his mother. 

"Okay…well, I guess that's right, then," replied Dudley. 

Uncle Vernon, finished with his Corn Flakes, asked, "Hey, Lil Daddy, you ready to go to the strip club on your birthday trip?" 

"Oh yes, Big Daddy. Lil Mama, will your friends give me another lap dance this year?" Dudley asked as the phone rang. 

"Yes, sweetums," Aunt Petunia said, walking over to the phone. Harry and Uncle Vernon watched Dudley unwrap several gifts (including a genuine Polex wristwatch) before Aunt Petunia came back. 

"That was Miz Figg. She can't take the little monster today." 

"Don't tell me that thing has to come with me!" whined Dudley. 

"You can let me stay at home, you know," put in Harry. 

He hoped that with all the privacy he would be able to eat all he wanted and have a go with Dudley's female dancers. 

"We're not leaving you alone in this apartment!" shouted Uncle Vernon. 

Harry knew why. Sometimes, things happened around Harry--weird things. He was once being chased by Dudley's gang, and just as they were about to catch him, two of them dropped dead from gunshot wounds. Harry didn't even have a gun, and there were no rival gangs nearby. Also, Aunt Petunia had once given him a tattoo on his forehead to cover up the lightning bolt scar that said, "Size Doesn't Matter." He was so scared to go to school the next day, but when he woke up, it was gone. 

So, Dudley's friend arrived. His name was Piers Poledancer. They all loaded up into the car and headed off for a London strip club. 

  
"This is boring!" shouted Dudley. "Do something!" 

"Here, let me spice things up, said Mr. Dursley, slipping a stripper a fifty dollar bill. Then the stripper started to give Harry a lap dance, unaware that Mr. Dursley had paid for Dudley. Just then Dudley punched Harry in the stomach and knocked him out of the way. Harry was very mad that he couldn't have his lap dance; suddenly, the stripper screamed. 

"AHHH! MY BUTT! IT DISAPPEARED!" 

The whole strip club went into an uproar. 

  
Later, as the stripper was rushed to the hospital, the strip club owner was making Aunt Petunia a strong cup of Irish coffee when Piers calmed down enough to say, "Harry was talking to her just before the 'accident', weren't you?" 

  
Harry was told to go to his closet when they returned home. The Dursleys were furious. 

He'd lived with the Dursleys almost ten years, ten miserable years, as long as he could remember, ever since he'd been a baby and his parents had died in that freak jerry-curl accident. 

Harry could remember always wishing that some unknown relation would come rescue him from the Dursleys. People on the street seemed to know him. One time, when Aunt Petunia had taken him and Dudley to shop on the black market, a strange man wearing an animal print thong had bowed to him. 


	3. Chapter Three: The Letters from No One

Okay, so now you've gotten a taste of our minds. I'm the one who has to live with these other two (for future reference, only one person is actually in charge of posting--me--and I'm actually the least perverted. Although the other two have corrupted me. *cue evil laughter* You can call me T). 

Here's the third chapter. It's short, but that's because each of us only wrote a sentence or two before passing it of to the next person. Trust me, later on each person was taking two sheets of paper to write their section, so the chapters get much longer. Just wait until we get to the part with Oliver Wood *watches C drool uncontrollably at the sight of the Gryffindor captain, while J tries to drag Oliver into nearby closet*. You see? *shakes head* 

  
  
Chapter 3: The Letters from No One

The next morning Harry got up and was forced to get the mail. He saw the usual bills, then suddenly: 

_Harry J. Potter   
The Broom Closet   
4 Privet Drive   
Apartment 4_

  
"What the @#$%!" shouted Harry. 

"Hey! BIG DADDY, HARRY HAS A LETTER!" screamed Dudley. 

"Huh? Who would write to…" Uncle Vernon's words were cut short when he read the letter. 

He got up from the table so fast that the dishes clattered to the floor. 

"Which one of you squealed? Huh?" His face had turned as purple as a beet. "Who's the rat?" 

Dudley and Harry were so shocked they didn't say anything, and then Uncle Vernon forced them all into the van formerly owned by the A-team. As they drove at 55 miles an hour through a school zone, he was muttering, "They've found me. They've found me." 

Aunt Petunia didn't seem to know what was going on either. It seemed like they had been driving forever when they finally pulled into the Motel 7 ½. 

"Still not right…" Uncle Vernon said. 

They kept driving. Finally, after stopping at a strip mall, up top a tree, and at the bottom of a lake, Uncle Vernon came to a stop at a little boat parked in the sea. 

"Um, Big Daddy? What is this?" squeaked Dudley. 

"It's taking us to our new home," replied Vernon. 

"That?!?" yelled Petunia. She was looking at a small house full of pot on the sea. 

"Yes, that is my little horn-o-rific booty whore. All aboard!" said Vernon. Everyone clambered into the boat. 

They finally arrived at the rock after nearly drowning in the rough sea, and when they entered, they were greeted by a wave of smoke. There were three scummy-looking teenagers sitting at a table playing cards and… 

"MY WEED!!" screamed Uncle Vernon. Surprised, the kids jumped up and ran out of the shack, stuffing their pockets full of pot on the way. 

"Big daddy," whined Dudley, "I'm hungry, and I haven't gotten high in over two days!" 

They toked the night away, and passed out one by one, until Harry was the only one left awake, not having smoked enough to pass out. 

It was nearing midnight, and Harry lay stoned and awake, staring merrily at the little hand moving in circles on Dudley's watch. 

"Whoaaa! It keeps going on and on and on in the same circle, dude! When's it going to stop…" Just then, the watched beeped midnight. 

"Sa-weet! It talks too!" said a red-eyed Harry. 

KA-BOOM! 

"Dude, it ka-booms too…" 

KA-BOOM! Dudley woke with a start. 

KA-BOOM! Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia came running downstairs. A huge gold bong was in Uncle Vernon's hand. Harry now knew what was in the long thing package Uncle Vernon had had. 


	4. Chapter Four: The Keeper of the Keys

Okay, so we haven't gotten that many reviews. I know I said that we don't care, but maybe we do. We like to hear honest opinions. We haven't even gotten any flames (although I guess that's a good thing). Anyway, here's the third chapter. 

  
  
Chapter 4: The Keeper of the Keys

Harry stood looking, not quite sure if his twelve hits were still affecting him. He saw a giant man walk through the doorway. In one garbage can lid-sized hand he had a cane, and in the other a letter. He seemed to walk with a pimp limp and Harry thought he looked quite familiar. 

"Hello there, Harry," said the giant. 

"Get away from him!" shouted Uncle Vernon, spit flying from his lips. "I forbid you to tell that boy anything." 

Sizing up Uncle Vernon, the big pimp replied, pointing the cane menacingly, "Whatcha gonna do, Willis?" 

"I'll…I'll…mimblewimble," he said, backing into a corner. 

"That's what I thought," Hagrid replied, plopping onto the crack-filled couch. "I suppose yer ready ta go to Hogwarts then, Harry." 

"Hogwarts…what's that?" asked Harry. 

"Don't you tell him anything!" Uncle Vernon said, coming out of his corner. 

"Shut yer pie hole!" Hagrid replied. 

"Don't tell me ya don't know, Harry," said Hagrid. 

"Know what?" 

"Blimey! Didn't ya ever wonder where ya got eh from? Yer Mum n' Dad wuz summa da best around," said Hagrid. 

"Best what?!" asked a frustrated Harry. 

"Yer a wizard-pimp, Harry." 

"I'm a what?" 

"Yer a wizard-pimp! Haven't you ever gotten so horny you just couldn't handle it?" 

Harry stared guiltily into Hagrid's bloodshot eyes. 

"Righ' then, here's yer letter," Hagrid said, handing Harry the letter. 

Opening it, Harry read: 

  
HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF PIMPCRAFT AND PROSTITUTION-ARY   
Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster   
(Order of Shaft, First Class, etc.) 

Dear Mr. H. Potter,   
I am pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Pimpcraft and Prostitution. Please note that the term begins on September 1st. We await your pigeon by no later than August 31st.   
Students may bring with them a knife OR a club OR one pair metal knuckles. 

PARENTS, PLEASE REMEMBER THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT PERMITTED THEIR OWN MACHINE GUNS. 

Sincerely,   
Minerva McGonagall   
Deputy Headmistress 

Questions exploded in Harry's head like a gun being fired. He stammered, "What does it mean, they await my pigeon?" 

"Jumpin' jigglypuffs, that reminds me," said Hagrid, pulling a pigeon, a long quill, and a roll of parchment out of his fur coat. He scribbled a note which Harry read upside down. 

  
Dear Professor Dumbledore,   
Given Harry his letter. Taking him to buy his things tomorrow.   
Gang activity's horrible, hope you're well. 

Hagrid 

  
"I AM NOT LETTING HIM BE TAUGHT MAGIC TRICKS BY SOME CRACKPOT OLD FOOL! LITERALLY!" screamed Uncle Vernon. 

"DON'T-EVER-INSULT-ALBUS-DUMBLE-DORK-IN-FRONT-OF-ME!"said Hagrid. 

"Um, that's Dumble-DORE," said Harry meekly. 

"Oh, righ' then." 

Just then, the birthday cake that Hagrid had hath doth upon Harry was being eaten by his fat, pig-like cousin Dudley. 

"Stop righ' there!" Hagrid said while pointing his pimp cane towards Dudley's butt. A blue light shot out of the end, and suddenly a vibrating dildo sprouted from Dudley's behind. 

"AAAHHH!" screamed Dudley. 

"What's that?!" yelped Harry. 

"OHMIGOD!" screamed Vernon. 

"OOOHH!" said Aunt Petunia with giddy pleasure. 

"GET OFF ME, MOM!" screamed Dudley. 

"PETUNIA! YOU'RE ACTING LIKE YOUR SISTER!" yelled Vernon. 

The whole room fell silent. 

Standing up, Petunia turned on her husband. "We agreed never to talk about her--abnormality." 

"You knew?!?" cried Harry. "You knew all this time and didn't tell me that I'm a wizard pimp?" 

"Knew?" she said, turning to Harry. "How could I not know, my dratted sister being what she was? 

"Oh yes, my parents were very proud of her. When she got her letter they were so happy. 'We'll have a witch in the family,' they said. I was the only one to see her for what she was: a freak! And then she met that Pott-head at school and had you, and I knew you'd be just as abnormal! And then, if you please, she went and got herself blown up, and we got landed with you!" 

"You told me my parents died in a drive-by!!!" 

"Drive by!!!" roared Hagrid. "How could a drive-by kill Lily and James Potter? That's scandalous! Harry Potter not knowin' his own story when every kid in our world knows his name!" 

"What happened?" Harry asked. Hagrid looked anxious. 

"Never expected this…I don't know if I'm the right person ter tell yeh-but I guess someone's got ter." 

He threw a dirty look at the Dursleys. 

"It begins with a person called…" 

"Who?" 

"Well, I don like saying it…" 

"Why not?" 

"People are still scared. There was a wizard-pimp who went bad. His name was…" he said with a gulp. 

"Voldemort," he said, shuddering. "Don' make me say it again. Anywho, this wizard-pimp, about twenty years ago, started looking for followers. Got 'em, too. Dark days. Didn't know who to trust. Some stood up ter him-an' he killed 'em. One o' the only safe places was Hogwarts. Dumbledore's the only one He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Laid was afraid of." 

"Yer mom n' dad were as good a witch n' wizard-pimp come. He turned up in the village where they lived on Halloween ten years ago an' killed 'em. 

"He turned his wand on you, but something about you last night stumped him. He couldn't kill yeh, Harry. He fled. Some people say he died. Cockswallop, in my opinion. I reckon he's still out there, waiting for the righ' time to turn up." 

Harry stared at Hagrid in amazement. "So that's how I got my scar!?" asked Harry. 

"Tha's righ', Harry," said Hagrid. Harry just sat there in half-wonderment and half-hatred. If it weren't for that booty-raper, then Harry would still have his family. 


	5. Chapter Five: Pornographic Alley

To anyone who's actually reading this, I'd like to apologize for taking so long to update. There was some deciding to be done with regards to whether or not we were going to tell fanfiction.net to screw themselves *slaps mean & evil voice that resides in head*. Ok, I didn't mean that. Really, I didn't.   
Some of the story is NC-17. We've decided that in the interest of respecting the rules *evil voice shouts "even if they're unfair"* that we will provide a link to our website for the questionable chapters, and see if it works out. A big thanks to those who have read this (and an even bigger one to those who have reviewed).   


Chapter Five: Pornographic Alley

A few hours later, Harry and Hagrid sat on the Underground. People thought it strange that there was a giant pimp, but they didn't say anything out of fear, especially when they saw him knitting a canary yellow circus tent-sized thong. 

After the ride, Hagrid led Harry down a London Street. They stopped in front of a run-down pub with a dirty sign that read, "The Leaky Cauldron." As they entered, furtive stares were shot towards them, and a small man ran out clutching something that looked like a vibrator (Harry knew what one looked like because he had once walked in on Aunt Petunia when she was using one). 

"The usual?" The small man said, pointing the vibrator at Hagrid. 

"No thanks, Tom, on special Hogwarts business," Hagrid announced importantly. 

"Oh," Tom said, glancing at Harry. He did a double-take and then said, "Is this him?" 

"Yep, this is the Harry Potter," Hagrid said, clamping a large hand on his shoulder. 

The pub fell silent, and all of a sudden Harry was shaking hands with everyone in the pub. 

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Mr. Potter," said a very made-up woman who smelled heavily of fish. 

Then Harry shook hands with some other people, including some stuttering pansy named Professor Squirrel. After that, Hagrid led him into a courtyard which consisted of a single brick wall. 

"What is that?" asked Harry. 

"You'll see," said Hagrid. 

Hagrid humped the wall five times and caressed it three times. Just then the wall moaned loudly and opened up, exposing a long alley. 

"Welcome to Pornographic Alley!" 

Harry stepped through the hole (which resembled the shape of a penis). He looked and saw at least a hundred shops all dedicated to a wizard-pimps needs. 

"First, we will need to get yeh some money, Harry," said Hagrid. 

"Where would I get money, I don't have any," replied Harry. 

"Gringcocks, o' course!" bellowed Hagrid, patting his…package. 

"What exactly is Gringcocks?" asked Harry as they stepped into a shack. Just then, Hagrid and Harry's clothes were stripped off and they were standing in front of at least a hundred little goblins. 

"What do I do?" said a nervous Harry. 

"Yeh let 'em bid on yeh. Then yeh, well, you know…" 

"Right, got ya!" said an eager Harry. 

(I really don't know how to follow this up!) 

As a shoeshiner, Bob Smith did a good job. But, as a screw machine operator he sucked. So he decided he would quit his job as a market analyst and decided to open up his very own ostrich ranch in Wyoming. He married a girl named Chu Choo and they had three children: Jeong-Woo, Fred, and Jorge Maria. Bob lived to the ripe age of 112 ½ years, and then died in his sleep. He lived long enough to see his great-great-great-great-grandsons make the first manned space flight to Mars. 

Now that he had money, Harry decided that he would go to get his books first. He pulled out his list and read: 

Course Books (All students should have a copy of the following): 

_The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1)_ by I.P. Freely 

_A History of Pimpery_ by Cynthia Biro 

_Prostitution Theory_ by Tasha Dalstra 

_One Thousand Magical Herbs and How to Smoke Them_ by Jessica Wright 

Harry got all of his books and headed off to get some robes. Madam Masturbate helped him out. He saw, while he was there, a scrawny, pale, white boy with a pointed nose. "Hi," said the boy, as the tailor stripped him of his clothes. 

"Er…hi," replied Harry, who also was nekkid. 

"Going to Hogwarts, I presume." 

"Yeah." 

"I hope I get into Slytherin. My whole family is from there. I'd just leave if I got put into Hufflepunk, wouldn't you?" Harry for one, had no idea what he was talking about, but he couldn't help staring at this boy's package. It was very small! Harry stared in disbelief! He never knew they could come so small. 

Just then, Harry noticed that Hagrid was staring in through the window, waving with one hand, but Harry couldn't see his other hand. It looked like it might be in his pocket… 

After the fitting, Hagrid took Harry to get his birthday present, a ruffled-looking brown and white pigeon. 

They went back to the Underground. "You'll have to go to Platform 9 2/3 to get on the train to Hogwarts." 

"Platform 9 2/3, but where's that?" But when Harry turned around Hagrid was gone. 

  



End file.
